#why am i sobbing because i touched a wall?

[gojodickbig]

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen. | Gojo Satoru x f!Reader.

warnings: self-doubt, mutual pinning, mental health struggles, emotional hurt/comfort.

A/N: hehe i know i said that i don't write but this is a little thing i wrote yesterday, (first time posting something that’s not a smau, so bear with me!) this is for my avoidant attachment cuties who have so much love to offer but that are also always scared of ruining things with the person they love and think they’re not enough. i feel you—i struggle with this too. but remember, you’re always enough and deserve love so don't push it away. i wrote this while crying (lol) because i found myself in a similar situation with my actual boyfriend when we first started "dating". hope you enjoy reading, let me know what you think!

also likes and reblogs are appreciated! :)

word count: 2320.

“No,” you say, stepping back and resting your hands on the kitchen counter. “Stop that. You don’t mean what you’re saying right now.”

“You’re wrong,” Gojo says, stepping closer to you. “I mean every word.” He raises a hand, reaching out to touch you. “Please, look at me.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, avoiding his touch. “You should go.”

“I love you.”

“You don’t.”

He falters, and for a moment, the silence between you and him feels like a heavy weight. His gaze never leaves yours, though you can’t bring yourself to meet it.

“I do,” he insists, his voice low but unwavering. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

“I’m a mess,” you choke out, your voice trembling as you turn away, desperate to hide the tears that threaten to fall. “I don’t deserve your love. I’m broken.”

“You deserve better.” Your voice cracks. “Someone who isn’t afraid of loving you.”

The silence stretches as Gojo watches you, the pain in his eyes mirroring yours. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, as if he’s struggling to hold himself together. He takes in the way your shoulders hunch, the way your hands grip the counter behind you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. The tension is palpable, each second stretching out, heavy with unspoken fears.

“Stop,” he interrupts, his voice hoarse, filled with raw emotion that makes your heart stutter. “You’re all I deserve—and more than I ever thought I could have. Don’t you see? It’s always been you.”

He steps forward, ignoring the space you tried to put between you and him, until there’s only a breath between you. “None of that matters to me. I see you, all of you. And I love you. Every part of you, even the parts you think are too much to bear.”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice cracks, a sob catching in your throat. “I can’t… I can’t let you in. You’ll get hurt, and I can’t let that happen.”

“Then let me decide,” he says softly, his voice full of tenderness. “Let me be the one to choose.”

You shake your head, wiping your eyes, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you feel. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I don’t know how to love anyone… I don’t even know how to love myself.”

He steps even closer, his voice a soft but firm whisper. “I’m not asking for perfection. I’m asking for you. All of you, as you are. Because you are enough for me.”

You back away, the ache in your chest intensifying, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are full of something you can’t name, something that pulls at the deepest parts of you, something that terrifies you. “I can’t… I can’t let you do this.”

“Why?” Gojo’s question is quiet, almost a plea. “Why can’t you believe me? Why can’t you see that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere?”

The words catch in your throat. The wall you’ve spent so long building starts to crack, but you can’t let it fall. Not now. Not like this.

“Because I’m afraid,” you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. “Afraid that if I let you in, you’ll leave when you realize how much of a disaster I really am.”

He takes another step forward, his eyes searching yours for some kind of answer, some sign that you’ll let him in. “I’m not going anywhere,” Gojo says, his voice steady. “I’m staying.”

Your breath hitches, and for the first time, you let yourself meet his gaze, really meet it. His eyes are open, raw, like he’s offering you every part of himself. The tenderness in his expression is almost too much to bear.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” you say, shaking your head, but your voice is quieter now, softer.

“I know.” He murmurs, his hand hovering just inches from you, like he’s waiting for you to make the choice. “But I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of your pain. I’ll take all of it if it means I get to love you.”

A tear slips down your cheek, and you try to wipe it away quickly, but he reaches out and gently catches your wrist. “Let me love you. Let me stay.”

The words hang in the air between you—heavy and final. For a moment, the room feels like it’s shrinking, the tension pulling at your chest, at your heart. You want to believe him, want to let yourself fall into the safety he’s offering. But the fear, the doubt—it feels like a weight too great to lift.

“I’m not… I’m not ready,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the truth. “I’m not ready to let anyone in. Not like this.” You look at him, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, Gojo, you should go.”

He lowers his hand but doesn’t pull away. He steps closer, closing the distance until you’re standing so close you can feel the warmth of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breath. “You don’t have to be ready,” he says softly, his voice low and insistent. “Not right now. Don’t send me away. Just let me stay.”

You don’t know how to respond, don’t know what to do with the storm of emotions crashing inside you. But in that moment, you feel something shift. Maybe you can’t let him in completely—not yet. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to push him away completely either.

“I’m too much for you,” you whisper, almost as if saying it out loud makes it more real. “I can’t fix myself. No one can… not even you.”

Gojo takes another step forward, gently cupping your face in his hands. His touch is warm, grounding. “You don’t need to fix yourself. You don’t need to be perfect. You don’t need to be anything but you. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter how many times you tell me to.”

A shudder runs through your body as the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You close your eyes, trying to hide the vulnerability from him, but he doesn’t let you. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you with a tenderness that feels like home.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “I’m so scared that if I let you in, I’ll destroy everything.”

“You’re not going to destroy anything,” he murmurs, holding you tighter. “You’re not going to destroy me, and even if you do, I wouldn’t mind being hurt by you if that means I could actually be with you, to love you. I’m choosing to stay, even if it’s messy. Even if it’s hard.”

Gojo pulls back just slightly, his thumb gently wiping the tears from your face. His gaze softens, full of affection. “I wish you could have my eyes for just a moment, to see how perfect and incredible you are. You’re an amazing woman. Don’t you see that?” he says quietly, his voice filled with warmth.

"I’m not perfect,” you say, your voice cracking again as more tears fall.

He lifts your chin with his finger, making you meet his gaze. “I don’t want you to be perfect. I never did. I just want you—exactly as you are. All the imperfections and scars, they’re part of what makes you who you are. And that’s more than enough for me.”

You inhale shakily, the weight of his words settling into your chest. “But what if I can’t love you the way you deserve?”

Gojo’s hand cups your cheek now, his touch gentle and sure. “You don’t have to love me perfectly. You just have to try. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time. But you don’t have to be afraid to love me, or to let me love you.”

You let out a broken laugh, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know how to stop being afraid.”

“Then let me help you,” Gojo says, his voice soft, yet strong. “I’ll be right here, through the fear, the pain, and everything in between. Like i said, I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying. Always."

His words wrap around you like a blanket, offering warmth you didn’t think you could feel again. Maybe you’re not ready to let go of all your walls, but maybe, just maybe, you don’t need to be. Because with him here, you’re starting to think that it’s okay to take that first step toward trusting someone with your heart.

And as you stand in his arms, the fear doesn’t go away—but it starts to feel like something you can face, as long as he’s by your side.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe him. Hope stirs in your chest, fragile but present. Maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to do this alone.

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[hermthejewishwyrm]

Bro I think I really just need to go to the Kotel. I think that would fix me for a bit.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“Agatha can’t control her powers and kills a bunch of people, this explains why Death is in love with her because it means she gets more bodies” No.

No no no.

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and the first time someone blasted her with their magic they died right in front of her and she was only seven years old and terrified and alone until suddenly there was a small little girl across from her who gently took her hand and told her it was okay”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and had a tantrum, purple exploding out of her, but the other witch was too fast and Agatha blinked and they were dead on the ground and she scrambled back against the wall, curling up into a little ball and shaking, shaking, shaking, until someone just as young and soft as her stroked her hair back and told her they knew it was an accident”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and was beaten and bruised by her mother until she couldn’t take it anymore and ran off into the woods and was blasted by someone who thought she was a witch hunter, and she didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Agatha climbing into a tree and scraping her cheek and trembling as she stared at the lifeless witch, something rattling deep inside of her that sounded like a stranger’s voice. And then the stranger appearing through the thick, standing over the dead body and instantly looking up, looking for Agatha. Finding her in the tree and climbing in with her. Smoothing a thumb across her cheek until it didn’t sting anymore”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and any spell she tries goes haywire, the final teacher that swore she could fix her grey and lifeless on the floor as Agatha sat up on the kitchen table and just stared and stared, tears falling, always falling, until that familiar face appeared through the bedroom doorway, watching Agatha, not the woman, and threaded their fingers together. Guided her to cracked, dusty skin and forced her to feel it, hand pressing hers into dead flesh and murmuring ‘exceptional’ under her breath before explaining every single step of reaping a soul. Talking and talking until Agatha wasn’t crying anymore, until she couldn’t remember why she had been upset in the first place”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she also couldn’t control her temper, and suddenly half of a coven was dead before her, barely eighteen years old, and then the girl, also freshly a woman, the closest thing she knew to having a friend, sliding up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder, wiping her tears away. Shushing her pleas of ‘why can’t I control it? Why do I ruin everything I touch?’ with soft murmurs of ‘there’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t kill them. They simply… bent to your power.’”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she sure as hell tried, until she was tied to a stake and her coven fell at her feet and her mother crumpled before her, hellbent until the moment she died to punish Agatha for things she had never meant to do. Agatha, with her grief and her relief and her freedom, finally, somehow still sobbing over her mother’s death, curled up far away and safe in the woods. Safe until Death came for her, hands cupping her face too tenderly, too delicately, and forced Agatha to meet her eyes. Death, who had somehow become the only one to ever show her mercy and kindness and compassion, leaning her forehead against hers and whispering ‘it’s okay. I am so proud of you.” Death leaning in so, so hesitantly and pressing the smallest kiss to her mouth. Breaths hitching. Eyes meeting. Long, loaded stares and trembling fingers and Death herself smiling at Agatha like she actually meant it. Agatha fisting her cloak and yanking her closer and letting Death suck the air right out of her lungs, and Agatha somehow living anyway”

That’s what I need.

[4unnyr0se]

PLEASEEEE MATCHING WITH CAPTAINS ON TINDER WITH USHI AND KITA PLEASEEE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 🙁 FROM ONE AUTISTIC TO ANOTHER I AM BEGGING YOU

❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | wakatoshi ushijima and shinsuke kita

warnings: timeskip! ushijima and kita, fem! reader size kink, protected sex, hayloft sex, unprotected sex, biting, marking, virgin! ushijima, soft dom! kita, spanking, rough sex, tendou mentioned, kind of dom reader for ushijima

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

Wakatoshi Ushijima | Loosing his virginity

Ushijima wasn’t a stranger to people talking about their sex lives around him. His face was so stoic and statuesque that no one could tell if he was uncomfortable listening to the subject. The topics spoken in his vicinity ranged from how big a woman’s breasts were to how someone lost their virginity. He had to admit, he was a bit more awkward around those conversations because he couldn’t relate. He was a 26-year-old virgin, while his teammates and rivals had no doubt lost their virginity years prior. Some people even lost their virginity in high school. How scandalous!

He had contacted Tendou, his closest friend from Shirtatorizawa, to hopefully give him advice on the subject. Tendou was shocked at first (and found this entire situation to be completely hilarious) but offered his advice anyway. He told Ushijima that losing your virginity doesn’t have to be a big deal, that it doesn’t have to be romantic or special. It’s just something that happens, and everyone is different. Tendou also recommended downloading Tinder, which is a very useful resource. “If you want sex with no strings attached, look no further.” his words rang in Ushijima’s ears, his thumb hovering directly over your profile. You seemed like a good match for him, but he didn’t really know what he wanted yet. 

Shrugging his shoulders, he slid right on your profile and was surprised when you matched with him. He had very clearly stated that he was a virgin in his biography (Why would he not? It was accurate), so that kind of deterred people from matching with him. You messaged him instantly, suggesting he visit your apartment sometime this week. Of course, he accepted; that was the whole reason why he was on that app. He had one concern, however. Ushijima was massive, bigger than any other man by a wide margin. Could you handle him?

“Shh,” gentle sounds left your lips as you covered your dripping core above Ushijima’s length, observing how it was practically twitching with want for you. “We don’t have to rush things, okay? I know it’s your first time, baby,” you kissed the side of his cheek tenderly, your nails dragging themselves up and down his muscular chest. “Just let me make you feel good.”

He could only nod as your lips touched his once more, biting on his swelling bottom lip playfully. His hands rested on your hips, kneading the flesh between his calloused fingers. His usual stoic face was flushed, lipstick marks adorning his chapped lips and thick neck. He impatiently squeezed your hips, not daring to open his mouth just yet. 

“Oh? Are you ready now, ‘Toshi?” you purred, breaking the kiss to lower yourself down even further. “You have to tell me if you want this, baby. Or else I won’t do it.”

“P-please,” Ushijima mumbled, his eyes staring intensely into yours. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to feel you. He needed to know if the stories his teammates told him were true and if it felt like euphoria once he was inside you. Without giving you any warning, he thrust his hips upwards, pushing his pulsating shaft inside your sobbing core. “Sorry, couldn’t wait any longer. Fuck.”

“Shit!” you cried out, balancing yourself on his broad shoulders. “Y-you’re really fucking big. G-gimme a second, okay?” your breath was quick and shallow, your walls wrapping so perfectly around his huge cock. Was he really a virgin? There was no way in hell someone with that big of a dick was a virgin. After regaining your composure, your hips began to move up and down on his length, a wanton mewl escaping your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive place. 

“Go faster,” Ushijima demanded, gripping harder onto your hips. He wanted to take charge but had no experience in this department. What if he messed up? What if he hurt you? His left hand was the size of your entire ass, you were so fragile compared to him. “Wanna feel more of you.” He cracked his palm against your ass softly, massaging the stinging flesh soon afterward. 

You nodded, burying your blushing face in his neck. Your bruised lips peppered soft kisses on his skin as you continued to bounce up and down on his gigantic cock, his head brushing against your cervix so deliciously. All that could be heard in your apartment was the sensual sound of R&B music, your wanton cries of pleasure, and Ushijima’s occasional grunt or deep moan. He wasn’t very vocal, but he was close; he could feel his cock twitching inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your gummy walls, attempting to milk him for all he was worth. “I’m, fuck, I’m gonna cum soon. Feels fucking incredible.”

“D-d’ya wanna cum inside o-or on my tits?” you whimpered, feeling your own climax quickly approaching. He was just so fucking big, and his voice was so deep. Each word he spoke made your clit throb even harder. “P-please ‘Toshi!”

“Inside,” he demanded, bolding, leaning up to kiss you once more. The kiss was molten, full of fire and passion that he had so long oppressed. He groaned in your mouth as he felt you let go of your cock, feeling your body convulse around him. The sounds of your pathetic and fucked out mewls drove him over the edge, his cum painting the walls of your womb white. 

You broke the kiss and smiled at him, pulling yourself off of his cock with a pop! Ushijima groaned at the sight of his seed trickling down your thighs so beautifully, looking like a Renaissance painting. Was this the sensation his teammates were talking about earlier, was it this kind of beauty? 

“Was that a good first time?” you asked, snapping him out of his wandering thoughts. He nodded and got off the bed, dressing himself quickly. “Yes, I liked it. Thanks.” The faintest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes not daring to meet yours. He knew that if he looked into your pretty eyes again, he would be included to stay, and he couldn’t risk getting distracted from volleyball. 

“You have my number if you ever want to, y’know, fuck again. You were really good for a virgin.” Was that a compliment or an insult? Ushijima couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, he didn’t take it personally. He turned towards you, still not making eye contact. Fuck, you were so damn pretty. Was missing his practice tomorrow really worth it? Did he want to have you in his arms that badly? 

“Maybe I’ll give you a call some other time.”

Shinsuke Kita | The florist

Kita loved the local farmers market. It was where he could sell his rice without worrying about the middleman. It was peaceful, seeing the mothers bring their children and pets. Seeing couples holding hands as they checked out the local food and drink vendors. This weekend, Kita wasn’t at his usual booth. He chose to browse instead, having turned an acceptable profit this month. There were stands that he had seen a million times before and one that was brand new. Fresh, the paint is not yet chipped off by children carelessly running into it. And it smelled beautiful, but that was no surprise. After all, it was a florist's booth.

He saw no one running the stand currently, maybe they were on break. Kita shrugged and took out his phone, opening Tinder to mindlessly swipe through it. It wasn’t an ideal pastime, but it beat standing around waiting for the floral stall owner to show up. 

You greeted him with a rushed hello, an embarrassed blush tinting your cheeks as you apologized for being away from the stand for so long. Before Kita could respond, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Opening the notification, you saw none other but the profile of the man standing before you, looking incredibly attractive. 

“You matched with me,” you blushed, holding your phone for Kita to see. He smiled softly, thinking it was adorable how you could barely make eye contact with him. 

“It appears I have.”

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, princess,” Kita purred against your lips, thrusting into you so gently Like you would break like you were made of glass. “Think you can take more of me, darling? I’m barely halfway inside that pretty pussy.”

Fuck, his voice made you squeeze around him even harder. Here you were, laying under him in a hayloft with your hands clawing desperately at his muscular back whilst he thrust inside of you so slowly, painfully slow. Was he trying to be a tease? Was making you squirm his kink? “J-just fuck me already! Don’t tease. It’s mean!” you whimpered in frustration, attempting to angle your hips in such a way that you could feel Kita deeper inside of your core. 

“I’m not trying to be mean, sweetness,” he chuckled against your lips, pecking them softly. They tasted like vanilla and roses, a pure scent that did not fit you being defiled in a hayloft. “Just don’t wanna be too rough with you, that’s all.” he squeezed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with just one of his hands. “But if a pretty girl like you wants me to go rough, I guess I have no choice.”

The atmosphere changed instantly as Kita slammed himself into you at full force, his length pistoning in and out of your sobbing core. Your pathetic and adorable sobs of pleasure filled the hayloft, the occasional beg and plead thrown in as Kita destroyed your insides with his cock. He was holding back, not wanting to break any barriers you had set up. But when you beg him in that angelic voice to fuck you, who is he to refuse a darling such as yourself?

“Is this any better, sweetheart?” Kita groaned against your neck, trailing kisses down the already bruised flesh until he reached that sweet spot just above your collarbone. His teeth just grazed the skin as he continued to practically slam into you, shaking the sensitive wood of the hayloft with each powerful thrust inside your drenched core. “Do you like it when I fuck you like this instead, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck, Kita! M’close, holy fuck! I’m so fucking close, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder, your nails leaving angry crescent imprints on his back in accompaniment with the array of feral red scratches. “Please, please, please! Lemme cum!”

Kita moaned at your desperate words, the cadence of your voice making his dick twitch deep inside of you. He was close to his climax as well, your mewls of pleasure making the sensations he was feeling all the more delicious. “Yeah, you wanna cum pretty girl? It’s okay, cum on my fucking cock. Fucking make a mess all over me.” he bit down harshly onto your collarbone, punctuating every other sentence fragment with a powerful thrust into your weeping cunt. He felt your gummy walls attempting to pull him impossibly deeper, your orgasm approaching incredibly fast.

Finally, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of complete euphoria. You sobbed as your release coated his cock, almost sending Kita over the edge in tandem. Quickly, Kita pulled out of your throbbing core and frantically fisted his cock, quietly roaring as his hot and sticky ropes of white painted your stomach so beautifully. He stood above you for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were from his point of view. Shaking from your orgasm, covered in his mess. You looked so fucking perfect.

“That was incredible,” Kita smiled at you, sitting beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the teeth marks he had left earlier. “Do you feel good, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, gentle, and kind. He wanted to ensure you knew you would be cared for, even though you both accomplished what you wanted. 

“I feel amazing, thank you.” you smiled, resting your face on his exposed shoulder. Your eyes landed on the scratches and marks you left on his back, fingers tracing over them tenderly. “Uh, sorry about all of this. I’m not usually this rough.”

Kita kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer to his form, caging you in his muscular arms whilst he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 

“You have nothing to worry about, pretty girl.”

okay this ask was literally so sweet i love u nonnie

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

_______________________________

You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

_____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[sun-kissy]

I am BEGGING on my knees for a part two to "Meant to be" 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

your wish is my command, sweetheart!! here is part 2. thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1 ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar (part 2)

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

poly!wolfstar x reader

The chillness radiating off the wall behind you does nothing to ease your pain as you slump to the ground outside the common room.

You press your fingertips to your lips, nibbling on your nails anxiously as you feel the hot tears dribble down your cheeks.

It was over. Your relationship with Sirius and Remus was over, and it was all your fault. You had ruined it.

It had felt like the right decision two minutes ago when you were admitting your troubles in the common room. It had felt like something you had to do for the past few weeks, whenever you saw the boys together without you, whenever you felt like an extra in their relationship.

So why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in your heart? Why did it feel like your insides had just been clawed out and crushed to pieces? 

This was your doing, your choice, you told yourself. No point mourning for a relationship that was already dead. 

Maybe Sirius and Remus were bubbling with laughter and cuddling in the common room right now. You really hoped that they were glad to be rid of you, because it was worth feeling this hurt if it meant they were happy.

As your thoughts of culpability begin to consume you, your vision starts to blur with tears. You lean your head against the wall, eyes closing as a soft sob escapes your lips. 

It was dawning upon you that you really had lost the boys you loved, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You freeze, your train of thought evaporating into thin air when you suddenly feel a hand on your cheek, thumbing the tears away.

You could recognise his touch anywhere, hands calloused from animalistic tendencies but gentle as a lamb when he traced hearts on your skin.

Eyes fluttering open, you come face to face with Remus, his beautiful face scrunched up in a sullen frown. Your vision flickers over to Sirius, standing behind him.

Sirius looks unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly from side to side with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you know you probably look just as bad as he does. He was gazing at you with an unfamiliar desperation in his eyes, which truly, really mortified you. And to think you thought he would be pleased with the breakup - god, you were horrible.

“Dove,” Remus breathes out in a quiet rasp, drawing your attention back to him. You will your heart to stay intact as you look into his hazel eyes, but you feel it breaking anyway. Not a single word comes out your mouth knowing full well that you would break down into a sobbing mess if you spoke. You avert your gaze and opt to stare at the ground instead.

“Hey, look at me, please,” he whispers, rubbing your cheek again with those stupidly lovely hands and looking at you with those disgustingly pretty eyes and all the love in the world that you wished that you could die. You quietly raise your head to look at Remus again, and he offers you a small, forced smile to compensate you for your effort. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

His hand suddenly retracts from your face, and you hate to admit it but you miss his warmth immediately. His eyes widen slightly, and it’s like he remembered that you’re not his girl anymore. You’re not his. 

There’s a beat of sad silence as all of you sit with the fact that things weren’t the same as they used to be, maybe they never would be.

“Y/n,” Sirius croaks out, breaking the silence as you whip your head up to look at his grief-stricken face. It’s not so much the brokenness of his voice as the fact that he isn’t trying to hide it which hurts your heart. “Can we… can we please just talk this out? Please?”

He takes a small wobbly step toward you, extending his hand. You feel the sirens in your head start to sound loudly. Should you give him your hand? Should you give him your heart again?

You despise the feeling of longing which immediately strikes you. The desire to feel Sirius’ fingers intertwined with yours again, the wish to hold him in your arms, the need to wipe those tears from his lovely face. You wished things to be as they once were, his arms around your waist and lips on your forehead. Remus’ head on your lap as you combed your fingers through his hair, eyes fleetingly meeting before smiles full of love were passed around. It wasn’t just a relationship, it was a home. It was achingly sacred.

That home was broken, tarnished. Maybe it had been broken since the day you fell in love with them. Maybe it had been torn apart when they carried their relationship along without you. Or maybe you had ruined it when you told them you wanted no part in this affair anymore.

But if there was one thing you knew, it was that things that were broken could be fixed. You knew this fact like the back of your hand, from the countless times Remus had uttered those exact words to you when you were dissolving into a mess of tears and panic. You knew the words from when Sirius murmured them softly in your ear, stroking your hair as you sobbed yourself half to death. When you were trapped under the debris of problems that was your life, broken and scarred, they had pulled you out. They had fixed you.

Undeniably, Sirius and Remus had made their fair share of mistakes, unintentionally shunning you from the best parts of their relationship. They had torn your heart apart, but they fixed it up every single time they kissed you or smiled at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Those fleeting moments had made all the hurt seem like nothing.

So who were you to deny the boys your affection? Even when they made mistakes, it was okay; because they loved you, and that was enough. You knew they might stumble and they may mess things up, but they would always get back up and take your hand. The sheer force of their love would be enough to overcome their shortcomings, you were sure of it.

So when Sirius stretches out his palm towards you, you wrap your hand around his. Remus watches on quietly, wide eyes darting between the both of you. 

Sirius’ face lights up immediately, a hint of relief in his eyes. It looks like all the tension has left his features as he gives you a small grin. Your lips curve upwards in a soft smile.

“Yeah, I think… I think we can talk about it. I’m sorry for just walking out on you guys like that.”

“No, angel,” Remus retorts immediately, standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you up as well. “It’s not your fault at all. We… we screwed up, big time. We were blind to your feelings, and we’re really fucking sorry for that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“But we’re gonna do better. We’re gonna make it work,” Sirius pipes up uncharacteristically firmly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Remus nods, lifting his gaze to look at you as well. “Yeah, for you. We’re gonna try harder just for you.” Seeing the determination and love on their faces involuntarily melts your heart and brings a smile to your face, a real one this time.

The hint of happiness on your face is a big enough victory for them, Sirius’ smile morphing into a usual full-blown grin, and Remus’ arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He moves towards the common room, Sirius’ hand still tightly gripping yours.

“We’re gonna talk about it, but not after some much-deserved cuddles and hot chocolate,” Remus murmurs, a small grin gracing his face when he sees the smile on your lips. The three of you walk in that awfully awkward position, you pressed against Remus with your hand tightly gripping Sirius’.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Just like this relationship, which had its ups and downs. That was especially the case for a three-way affair, something foreign to all of you. You were bound to slip up and you were bound to make mistakes.

But you loved them, and they loved you. That was all that mattered.

[annwrites]

⸻ a call to arms. part five.

· pairing: jacaerys velaryon x dragonseed!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you & jace hide yourselves away in a familiar alcove after a morning tiff. · word count: 3,286

When you wake the next morn, you feel in at least slightly better spirits.

You’d, after your 'incident' with Jace, sent the coin he’d given you to your family in King’s Landing, writing for them to send notice to you as soon as possible, informing you that they've received it.

Once you’ve broken your fast and dressed, you emerge from your chambers, wanting for an early-morning walk along the beach…only to be greeted by an unfamiliar guard outside your door.

“Where…where is Ser Myles?”

He bows his head to you. “I believe he has been reassigned, My Lady.”

You blink up at the strange man before you, anger quickly flooding your every sense.

You head directly for Jacaerys’ room.

Jace is interrupted from breaking his fast by a loud pounding on his door.

He panics, immediately worried that, mayhaps, it is Baela. 

What if she knows of last night—what nearly occurred between the two of you? What if she has come to call off their betrothal? Gods, what in Seven fucking Hells had he been thinking? What has he been since your first meeting but a couple of nights ago?

When you’re near, he finds himself unable to think straight. You cloud his judgements. Rather, force him to think with only one part of himself—and it is most certainly not with what sits between his ears, but rather his legs.

He stands, walking toward the door—lightly jumping when the pounding begins again. He wrenches it open—ready to loose his sharp tongue on whomever has forgotten their manners so early in the morn, only to be immediately cut off by you barging into his chambers.

“Where is he?” You ask acidically, swiftly swinging round to him, your loose silver hair falling over your shoulders. 

His mouth tugs into a frown.

The pleasant girl from last night has clearly fled him once again, instead replaced by one filled with fire.

“You’ll need be more specific, I’m afraid,” he replies cooly.

You take a step closer, your hands balled into tight fists at your sides, your nostrils flared. “Ser Myles, my guard. Where is he?”

He grits his teeth. “He has been reassigned.”

“To whom?” You spit.

“Not to whom, but to where,” he states flatly.

You seethe. “You sent him away.”

“I did. He was no longer suited to his role here as your protector.”

“Because he dared touch me, as if I did not do it back?” You ask with a raised brow and a hammering heart.

He takes a small step toward you, and then another. “You barely knew him. Why does it matter?”

His brow twitches in irritation. “Unless it was more than just a few ‘innocent’ touches which were shared. Mayhaps...”

He grins then, chuckling darkly, shaking his head.

“What?” You bark with vehemence. 

He steps closer, followed by another step and another, while you back up, glancing behind you, the wall on the right side of the room growing ever-closer.

“It is just your nature, isn’t it? I should’ve known as much the night last when you encouraged me to…to dishonor my betrothed.”

Your jaw falls slightly open. 

“You can’t help yourself. A wanton woman who can think only with that which is between her le—”

You slap him.

Slowly, he turns back in your direction, watching silently as tears slip down your cheeks and your chin wobbles.

“I am not the only one to blame,” you say between sobs.

His face falls slightly at the state of you. Of his own causing, no less.

“He was my friend. He was like me: lowborn. I’d found someone to talk to, and you took him away from me. Leaving me left with only the likes of you. If you wish for someone to blame for what we did, you should first take a look in the mirror, and remember whom it was who summoned whom to sup with them.”

He remains silent, only breathing steadily as he continues to stare at you.

“Jealousy and pride is no excuse to treat people as you do: disposable, lesser than, inconsequential.”

You step closer, jutting your chin upward as you stare into his brown eyes. “We are many. It is all of you who is few. You should remember that for when you are one day king, and inevitably go a step too far.”

You turn, heading for the door, slamming it behind you.

You find a quiet spot on the beach where you turn your back to your new guard and cry. 

You refuse to even speak to him. Not because you do not wish to, but because you are afraid of what may happen to him if you try.

No place is safe here.

You are filled with immeasurable guilt. For Myles—losing his position here is all your fault. Had the two of you never met, he would still be in his position. And for Baela. 

You could see it yesterday when she looked at the two of you, could hear it in her tone—the worry that Jacaerys looks upon you in a way he should not. 

She deserves better than someone like him, you’re sure. Then again, she, too, is highborn. Most like, she sees you just as he does.

As they all do.

You hate it here.

You don’t bother coming in, even when you begin to shiver from being cold. You merely sit and stare at the endless expanse of sea that lies before you.

You know your guard must be growing tired, but when you had tried telling him that if he would like to go inside he may, he’d merely told you his post was protecting you.

So you drift away in your thoughts, returning to your small abode in King's Landing, pretending you are sat upon a rocking chair, your little girl in your lap as she snacks on pastries you've made for her as you tell her stories.

Mayhaps you should instead steal away on Silverwing, as opposed to remaining here. Offer yourself to the Greens. At least that way, you will be closer to home.

You cannot support a family such as this. Neither of them deserve that which they fight for.

You wrap your arms round yourself, debating.

Jacaerys had given you a bit of time after your morning tiff in hopes that you would cool down.

He, himself, has felt in a daze in the hours since—your heated words going round and round within his mind.

And the heartbroken look he had instilled upon your face... His own had deserved to sting in return when you repaid him for his offensive accusations.

And now he treads the beach in search of you.

He is unsure what he means to do when he finds you.

More lessons in High Valyrian? Gods know you need further tutoring.

Another flying lesson upon Silverwing? He is sure you do not wish to be so close to him again.

Not today, at the very least.

Just as he begins to consider turning round and going back inside, he spots you sitting atop a small boulder, your guard at your back as you stare at the sea that lies before you with a solemn, blank expression.

You look...pale. And you shiver from the cold.

Now he has driven you even from feeling welcome in the castle where you should instead be, finding warmth.

Not that he's sure you ever did feel welcome to begin with.

All his fault...

When he meets your guard's eyes, he motions for him to return to the castle, and the man bows his head in return before turning round to leave.

You do not even notice his sudden absence.

Nor do you notice as Jacaerys stalks ever-closer.

Not until he is draping a warm cloak round your shoulders do you realize his presence.

Your head shoots up, and you quickly scowl, promptly standing.

You throw off his metaphorical olive branch, quickly marching in the other direction.

"Stop," he calls to you, retrieving his cloak, jogging to catch up to you.

You keep your mouth clamped firmly shut, refusing to speak to him.

"Please stop. I only wish to—"

You skip ahead a few steps, nearly tripping over your skirts you're so eager to create distance between you and he.

He lets out a low curse, spots an opportunity off to the side, then swiftly reaches forward, taking your hand in an iron-tight grip as he pulls you alongside him into a familiar alcove.

"Let go of me!" You shout, trying desperately to yank yourself free of him.

He holds firm, refusing to let you escape him as he hides the two of you away round a corner.

He pushes you back against a stone wall, desperate to make you listen, until you slap his face again, tears running down your own.

"I hate you! I cannot stand the sight of you! Being near you is unbearable! You royal arse!"

You begin pounding tiny fists against his chest, trying to push him away, until he has reached his limit, and he pins your arms to the wall behind you, just the same as before.

"I'm sorry!" He shouts.

You quiet then, staring up at him with vehemence.

"For all of it. My beastly behavior since we met. It has been..." He shakes his head. "Un-princely of me. I just..."

He cannot say it—that he both envies your looks, while they are also simultaneously the reason he lusts after you. And that you have figured him out with ease time and again. His insecurities over someone like you claiming a dragon, which he had thought made him special to have. And someone like you somehow being more worldly than he—a royal prince.

You know more than him, and it had stoked his ire time and again with how...mature you seem. Making him feel a child in return.

But that same maturity... Gods, how he longs to see you exemplify it again and again.

"You just what?" You spit, pushing back against him, though it does you little good.

There is a brief silence which hangs between you, until he comes closer, the familiar feel of his erection becoming present as he presses it to your abdomen.

"I want you."

You roll your eyes. "As I am well-aware. The feeling is not returned, I assure you. Now, let me—"

"Gods, you're fucking impossible, aren't you?"

"Me?! You've no idea what you want. Me, or Baela, or—"

He crushes his lips to yours while you squeal and squirm against him. And then you clamp down on his lower lip, drawing blood.

He wrenches himself away, but still holds firm to you.

"You just...you just bit me!" He cries in shock.

"Try that again and I'll do it again," you seethe.

He sneers, squeezing your wrists impossibly tighter.

"Fine. Then I shall..." He pauses.

Is he truly about to do this?

He glances to the side—the direction of where the alcove's entrance lies—then back to you.

He releases you, kneeling.

"What're you—"

"Teach me," he says, blinking up at you.

And you stare down at him, taken aback, quickly cooling.

"Teach..."

He reaches beneath your skirts, sliding a warm hand up your calf.

"Teach me how to please you. Allow me to show you how truly sorry I am in this...other way," he says with a slight smirk.

"I have taught you much these last few days. It is time, mayhaps, you return the favor."

He slides his hand higher. "It will, after all, be for your own benefit, at least."

He presses a soft kiss to your stomach, over your dress. "Allow me to please you."

You swallow nervously. "Jace..."

His face slowly falls and he glances away, softly shaking his head. "Foolish," he whispers. "Forgive me—"

You shakes your head, not wishing to humiliate him. Not when it comes to this. Even if he mayhaps deserves to be hurt in return for how he did the same just this morn.

"No, it's just... How am I to trust that I...consent, and you do not, once again, throw it back in my face, just as you did with what occurred between us last night?"

He slides his hand up the back of your thigh. "You have me on my knees. Begging you to allow me to pleasure you. You need more reassurance that you have me at your mercy now?"

Your lip twitches. Oh, Gods, this is so very strange.

"What do you... I mean, there are many things..." You stumble over your words, searching for that which you mean to ask.

His eyes trail down your body before settling on that which is directly before him—hidden beneath skirts of his own selection.

"I would use my mouth, Y/N, if it please you."

"What of...Baela? Or... If this is your first experience, are you sure you—"

"I know what I want. And I know that it is you. Here. Now. Will you not allow me this most singular indulgence?"

Your heart pounds between your breasts and all sensations of cold have fled your body, instead replaced by a blooming warmth spreading across your electrified skin.

Finally, you nod.

And he smiles.

He reaches to the hem of your skirt, pushing it upwards, and you take it from him, holding it above your waist as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your smallclothes, easing them down your thighs until they're pooled round your shoes.

You step out of them and he tucks them into his pocket before taking your bare hips in either of his hands, staring at your glistening cunt with wide eyes.

He licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

He gazes up at you once again. "How do I... What do I do, exactly?"

You nearly burst into a fit of nervous giggles, but use all your strength to fight the feeling down.

"Do you see...um...that small, fleshy hood—so to speak?"

He reaches forward, pulling it upwards, nodding, revealing a small pink pearl beneath.

"That—what you've just...revealed is what gives a woman her...pleasure."

He grins. "I believe I know all I need for the moment being."

And with that, he dives between your thighs, planting his full mouth openly against your sex, beginning to suck and run his tongue between your hot folds.

You throw your head back, sucking in a sharp gasp as your eyes flutter closed.

You quickly thread your fingers tightly in his dark curls, tugging his face impossibly closer to your sex.

You release a shuddering breath, sighing his name. "Jace..."

He reaches up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before he bends his neck to the side, diving ever-deeper with his tongue, desperate to fuck you with it.

He spreads your lips with his fingers, running his tongue along your dripping entrance, moaning against your heat.

"Gods, Jace, just like that."

His lip twitches, glad for your approval.

He kisses you sloppily, making loud, wet, smacking noises against your cunt—his cock straining painfully against his breeches all the while.

Palming himself over them only serves to makes the pain all the worse.

He breaks from you, staring up at you from under hooded lids—his face now slick from your arousal.

"May I untie my breeches, My Lady?"

Your brow twitches? He...he wants your permission to give himself relief?

"Y-yes, of course."

He nods, just once. "Thank you."

Your brows shoot up at his reply, watching as he tugs desperately against black leather strings. Finally, he reveals himself: long and hard, and the pink tip weeping with seed.

He does not stroke himself even once before he returns his full attentions, instead, to you.

And it is with fervor that he does.

He slurps and gasps and moans loudly in the back of his throat as he dines upon the most delectable part of you.

"Gods," he mutters against your mound. "You're so beautiful. Mm, and delicious."

He spreads your labia again, kneeling even lower as he flicks his tongue repeatedly against your pulsating entrance—dragging his speared tip back and forth, back and forth...

You gasp, clenching his curls tightly in both of your fists before pushing his face back against where you most want his mouth to be: against your clit.

"My clit—that...part I—"

He finds it instantly.

"Oh, Gods, good boy, Jace!"

He growls against you, his ministrations turning animalistic as he sucks and sucks against it, flicking his tongue, doing his utmost to please and tease.

You release his hair, tugging down the top of your gown, revealing your naked breasts before gathering your skirts again just as they've begun to slip over his head.

You want to see him.

Want to watch what he's doing to you.

Or, mayhaps, you are doing to him.

"Your fingers...slip two of them inside of me."

He does as instructed, easing them between your tight walls. The sensation he finds to be most unexpected: they are hot as fire, warm and wet and squishy, and utterly delightful.

Now he sees what all the fuss is about.

"Curl them upwards," you say between sighs.

He does.

"Now massage."

Slowly, he makes a beckoning motion with them and you gasp loudly, your eyes popping open.

"Yes, just like that. Good, you're doing so well!"

He pushes his face against your stomach—his nose pressed so hard into it that he can hardly breathe. So, he instead gasps for breath between your legs between long sucks and pleasant licks.

You bite your lower lip and Jace assumes he's most-certainly doing something right when those velvet walls begin to clench quickly around his soaked digits—your arousal so much that it's now running down his palm.

"Yes, yes, Jace, just like—oh, Gods, good boy—yes!"

He hums in contentment, glad to know he is doing right—is pleasing you so well in this way.

Your fingers tremble against his scalp, your breaths cause your body to shudder, and your thighs shake, but you do all you can to remain upright as you grow ever-closer.

He continually flicks his tongue against your too-sensitive bundle and you begin to whine in response.

"So close. You're doing so well... Gods, just a bit—just a bit more, My Prince"

He eases a third finger inside you, continuing to gently coax, and you gasp loudly.

"Yes! Yes! Nearly—"

He swirls his tongue round and round, on both his knees still, one of his hands tightly gripping your ankle for balance as he works fervently in your favor.

"Jace, oh Gods, I can't—I—Yes! Yes! Good boy! Yes!"

You finish against his face—against his tongue—giggling and gasping and whimpering all the while as your orgasm overtakes you.

You could swear you hear dragons roaring in the distance, but cannot know in your current state.

Eventually, you calm and when you look down, Jace is nearly on all fours, staring up at you with such a look as you have never before seen: lustful and wanton and overtaken with desire.

His face and hairline is slick, as well as his right hand.

Finally, he stands on wobbly legs, and it's then that you notice his cock is absolutely covered in his thick, white seed.

"Did...did you...?"

He crushes his lips to yours—his wet erection pressing against your bare stomach, leaving its own kiss in its wake as he pulls back after allowing you to taste yourself.

"I did not need even touch myself to finish at your hand," he mumbles with a pleased smirk, returning his lips to your own.

— tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea @daisyhxsh

@burningwitchobject @zizouu23 @baybaybear1 @sugyomama @dracaryxzs

@hayloftxxo @gentlejoy @darlingcharling-blog @s0urw00lf @usaguisenpaisblog

@kqlopsia @marvel-at-stucky

[heartfullofleeches]

Fletchers reaction to foxboy willingly kissing him for the first time

Yan Farmer Rabbit + Fox Hybrid Reader

[Reader has no mentioned gender but they are referred to as wife]

-

"Damn it!"

The knife clatters to the kitchen floor with a dull thud. Chest heaving with each pain breath, you fall to your knees - shirt clutched painfully tight in your claws as wetness drips down your cheeks.

Three weeks... Three weeks you've lived with the farmer and he hasn't asked you to lift a finger. This is it.... isn't it? It's finally happening. You were a such an idiot to think it wouldn't. He's testing you... A trial to see how useful you'll be to him in the long run.

"Hey, Sweetness. Something came up down at the general store. Shouldn't be gone long, but- think you can cut up the potatoes for dinner while I'm out? It's not hard. I'll show you how to do it."

He made it look so easy. Each slice against the cutting board so neat, precise - perfect. Just like him. What does he want from you? Does he actually think you'll make for a good partner? You can't even cut up vegetables to save your own tail- Just what the hell does he want from you?!

"Hun? That you?"

Shit. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

You wipe at your eyes with the backs of your palms, scrambling to pick yourself off the floor before he sees you. He can't see you like this- The thunder of his footsteps fills you with a kind of terror you haven't felt since you got locked in that kitchen coop.

"Y/n?"

Your back hits the cupboard wall. Fletcher's large, imposing figure hovers at the door frame. Two steps into the kitchen is all it takes for him to march up to the table. To see your mistakes. Too thick. Too thin. Sliced indiead of cubed like he asked. The farmer takes a breath. He kneels down in front of you, hand perched on the tile a hairline away from your shivering legs.

"Hon-"

"Don't-" You bite. "Just don't..... I missed up. I always do. Why do you even want me here? I can't do anything right... I'm a terrible wife."

"Hey!-" Fletcher grips your shoulder, tugging you against his chest. "Don't you ever, ever talk about yourself like that. You're fine. It's okay. All you need is a little practice. Just calm down."

Liar- He's a fucking liar. "What if I don't get better with practice?! What if all I ever am to you is dead weight?"

Fletcher kisses the top of your head, voice small - crushed by the sounds of your sobs against his chest. "That's fine with me too, Sweetheart.... That's fine with me too. I didn't bring you here because I wanted a maid. I just wanted you. That's all I have ever wanted since I laid eyes on you. I love you- Always have, always will."

His hold on you lessens as your whines and sniffles crawl to a still. Your puffy eyes cross his as you lift your head from his chest. He tries to smile - delicately raising his enormous paw to the fuzzy flesh of your cheek. He rests his nose against yours - just like he always did when he was trying to comfort you or feel a connection, lips inches from yours.

"Whether you can dice up a thousand potatoes or not at all. Even if you make a mess of everything you touch. I'll always be here for you no matter what. I'll always love you - no matter what."

Your arms creep up to his neck, the space between you null as your lips ghost over his. Fletcher stiffens, unsure - fearful of scaring you off now if he takes the dive for you. And so you take it-

The kiss is hesitant. Gentle as the hand stroking at your back, washing away any doubts left of his conviction towards you. Tear drops fall at your skin, but you have none more to cry. Is he?... You pull away as the droplets drip from Fletcher's chin into his already stained tee.

"My bad." The farmer barks out a dry chuckle, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop the flow. "Now's not the time to get emotional, but I just- I'm so glad to have you here. With me."

"I know... I'm glad to be here too now, but um... Fetch?"

"Yeah?"

Your ears lay flat against your skull as your stomach whines in hunger. "Can we... finish up with dinner now?"

The laugh Fletcher bellows is far less restrained. "Sure. What kind of man would I be if I let my wife starve? I'll tell you some more tricks will we're at it. You'll be a head chef in no time, sweetheart.... And even if you aren't - I'll cherish you all the same."

[spilledartery]

tied hands . . . ( kunikuzushi )

[ male reader, royalty ! au, angst, arranged marriage, implied sex, short. fujoshis, mlm fetishizers, dni. ]

gone are the days you two will sneak out to the palace gardens, to catch up, and enjoy each other’s presence, even if just for a few hours. gone are the days he will send you knowing stares and smirks, lingering touches and searing kisses in his study room, the library… gone are the days you’d climb up the palace walls to his room’s balcony, where you’d talk and gaze at the stars. “those stars,�� you had said, “can never compare to your beauty.” then, he would blush, look down at his hands on the banisters, and bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile.

gone are the nights you’d spent next to each other in bed, sweaty, and naked under the covers. gone are those moments in which the two of you would bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking, his head on your chest, you holding him close to your side, just staring at nothing; comforted by the silence, but the beating of your hearts are just as loud – happy and content.

“i dream to start a family with you one day,” prince kunikuzushi had said, tracing circles upon your bare chest by his nimble fingers. “you know, just… little ones running around; i’d be papa, you’d be daddy…”

his ramblings had made you chuckle. “oh, what a dream.” you turned your head to kiss at the crown of his head. “i would love that, beloved.”

he hummed, tilting his head to look up at you to meet your lips in a passionate kiss.

it was, indeed, just a dream.

kunikuzushi, repressing all of his emotions, slowly walked down the aisle, wearing the most beautiful white attire you had said you’d love to see him in one day.

kunikuzushi is so beautiful in all aspect. his long, indigo hair was let down. but his eyes… his eyes were dim, and full of protests that went unsaid, for you are not the one at the end of the aisle.

“but… but i love you – not… not — !”

“my darling beloved,” you said, cupping his tearful cheeks delicately, “please don’t cry. i don’t deserve your tears.”

he sobbed, then. placing his hands on your chest to clench at the cheap fabric of your shirt. you could only gently place your hands on his waist to ground him. “w-why are you so unaffected by this?” asked kunikuzushi, his mind heading the wrong way. “why do you seem so calm?! i – i am to be married off, and here you are, effacing yourself!”

you had the mind to fight for him, to kneel at the queen’s feet just to wish for her son’s hand – for it to be you, instead. but you know that it would bring more trouble. the queen had already found out of kunikuzushi’s affair with a commoner; you. she didn’t approve. her son has to marry someone of the same status, of the same nobility – not some random farmer of the kingdom, no. she had higher plans for the prince.

“my love, from the start, i’ve always known that we are doomed. this is of no surprise to me,” you said, cradling his head gently as he continued to cry to your chest. “but do not, even for once, think that i do not care – that i am not affected. i love you dearly, and i would rather die than seeing you be in another’s arms, but i understand this, prince, and so should you.”

“let’s run away,” said kunikuzushi without second thoughts, looking up at you with a hopeful gaze. “w-we can escape this place, please.” his sobbing had gone uncontrollable now to the the point that he’s trembling violently in your arms because of the disapproving look you gave him. “please…”

“and risk us being hunted? i wouldn’t want to bring you in danger — ”

“fuck! just — ! just listen to me!” he sounded desperate now. “i love you… please…”

instead of replying to him, you had just leaned down and kissed his lips, which he returned fiercely and tearfully. you had spent your last night together, then. and when he wakes up in the morning due to the rapping of the maids at his door, ordering him to wake up because today is his wedding, you were gone.

that night, instead of spending his wedding night with his spouse, he stood at his room’s balcony, hoping that you’d climb up the walls; to kiss him and stargaze, like you always did.

but gone are those times.

kunikuzushi cried for the millionth time to himself, wishing that the circumstances had been different.

[certainlynotasimp]

OH MY GOD. THE WAY I JUST SCREAMED IN MY PILLOW BECAUSE OF YOUR NEW SUNNY FIC AGDGJAEGAJAVSG ITS SOSOSOS CUTE I CANT BREATHEHEHEHEHE. it got me thinking…sunny and miggy are perfect for the one bed trope 😭😭😭😭😭 just imagine miggy acting like it doesn’t effect him, sleeping in the same bad as sunny. i’m already giggling thinking about it. PLEASE WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME 😭🙏

As Warm As You.

Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader

A/N: OMG! Thank you so much for the love and the request! 💕🤍 I personally never read anything from this trope, but I think I made something that can satisfy your fluffy craving😅. But I added some Sunny lore, so maybe this will make up for my ignorance. I’m also sorry it’s kinda short.

A/N: I haven’t seen the movie yet, but this shouldn’t be harmed by it maybe. Also I would like to say that I am using Google Translate for the Spanish phrases I use, so if you are fluent in Mexican Spanish (I think that’s what you call phrases and sayings more common in Mexico.), please comment some criticism my way. Thank you!🤍

Warnings: Trauma, Nightmares, comfort, fluffy bits, One Bed, Miguel is a secret softie, No Use of YN ((Sunny is her nickname, not her name name)), Female pronouns, Google Translate Spanish, Established relationship?

——————-

“Ben?…Ben!”

The little spider’s scream cuts through the screeching sirens. The smog hung around the air as the dying flames stained the sky. Too many flames…Too many places to be at once.

The red staining the dark costume caused bile to build up as the search becomes more desperate.

I have to find him.

The dull pain from nails bending and breaking as the rumble falls around her shaking frame. The choked panting caused the Doctor to find his friend quite easily. His friend desperately searching for something. Someone.

Why can’t I find him?

The question is answered with a patch of dark hair appears under a pile of rumble, the tips stained in red. There was so much…why is there so much…

A howl of pain rings out of the young woman’s throat as she clings to the body, her mentor just steps behind her, helpless as to how he can help her.

No one can help her. Like how no one helped her Ben.

——

A faint flash of orange alerts the sleeping man out of his endless dream. He looks around and doesn’t notice anyone at first. Miguel sighs, his paranoia running wild as he almost thought an enemy broke into his apartment, not that it would be a first. As he lays back down to sleep, a slight drag against the floor brings the hairs on the back of his neck to life.

He may not have a spider-sense, but he certain knew when someone was watching him. His talons burrow at as the sound patters closer to his bed. With out hesitation, he lunges towards the noise, his hands catching the form of an invisible figure as he rams them into the wall. A yelp with a whiff of vanilla and lavender stops him from ripping the invisible person’s throat out.

“Cariño?…” Miguel whispers as he retracts his claws. A faint whimpering emerges from the solid unseen being in front of him as her body materializes in the moonlight. The lines of her spider suit glowing an ethereal green as her mask disintegrates, revealing her tear stained face.

“What are you doing?” His eyebrows furrow as he looks at her suspiciously, despite knowing that she was the only one he knows wouldn’t hurt him. His mind blurs his confusion and frustration as he steps back to allow her to recover from being slammed into the wall. Certainly there wasn’t a big enough emergency that the beloved residential ray of sunshine would leave her room at The Lobby to break into his dimension, and bedroom to come get him.

“You know better than to use the gizmo to…” His scolding comes to a halt when the young woman hugs his figure, burning her head into his firm chest.

His shirt becomes wet with her tears as she sobs. The realization hits him as she whimpers into his touch.

She had the dream again.

No. She had the memory again.

His arms wrapped around her short frame as he buried his nose into her hair. Her scent filled the hole of sorrow her cries burned into him. As he rubs her back, her cries eventually stopped as she pulls away from him, an apology already waiting on her lips.

“I’m sorry, Miggy…it was really bad this time…” She mutters as she tries wiping her tears away as she forces a shy smile.

She felt ashamed for bothering him. Miguel was a busy man and she could have just stayed in her room at The Lobby, but the screams were too much.

His screams were too much.

Miguel doesn’t respond as he heads over to his dresser, pulling open a drawer. His face remaining emotionless as he retrieves a sweatshirt that sparked her familiarity.

The old gray crew neck sweatshirt with a fraying collar and mysterious stains along the sleeves. The old golden initials of NYU were cracked and picked apart due to many trips in the wash and anxious tendencies. A faint blush appears as she remembers the first time she ever saw that sweatshirt, the memory being one of her favorite…it was the first time she felt so warm since that day…

Miguel attracts her attention again when he rolls up the fabric in his hands and forces the neck over her head. Her hair sticking awkwardly as she peers up at Miguel in awe at how caring he was despite his annoyed expression.

“Brazos arriba, Sunshine.” He whispers as he helps her arms through the sleeves. She blindly follows him like a student being instructed. The taller spider stands back as he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“I appreciate that you enjoy the suit I made you, mi luz.” Miguel states with a slight teasing smile. “But you probably wanna be more comfortable for bed.”

“Oh yea…” The small spider blushes in embarrassment as she disintegrates her suit back into her gizmo device. A shiver travels up her spine as the cold air on her legs, leaving her almost exposed except for the old sweatshirt.

“Now then,” Miguel sighs as he walks back over to his bed and crawls back under the covers. “I have several meetings in the morning, so I need to sleep.”

The little spider shuffles in her spot for a few moments as Miguel closes his eyes, getting ready to sleep again. With a nail between her teeth, the girl heads for the door to go find the couch when Miguel clears his throat. She turns back to look at him when she sees the covers beside him pulled back. Miguel’s open eye glaring at her as he groans. “It would be a lot easier for me to leave in the morning if you are in here and not in my way.”

A warm smile forms on her face as she excitedly comes into his bed. Miguel’s front facing her as his burgundy gaze burns with false annoyance and exhaustion. Miguel sighs as he feels the smaller being’s weight snuggles into his broad chest as expected.

“Thank you, Miggy.” She whispers. Her eyes peering up at him with gratitude and an emotion that only shines for him, his own secret that he will die to keep to himself.

Miguel rolls his eyes as his eyes meet hers, his warm cheeks hidden by the darkness. “Go to sleep, Cariño. You’re gonna need it for training.”

She giggles as she wraps her arms around his waist like a teddy bear. “Sweet Dreams, mi bonita araña..” She mumbles as she closes her eyes. His warmth fills the coldness of her nightmares as sleep draws her to peaceful breaths. Miguel remains frozen for a few moments as he makes sure she is deep in REM sleep before his gaze softens.

His rapidly beating heart acts as her lullaby as he places a kiss on her crown.

“Sweet dreams, mi vida…” He whispers into her scalp as his arms loom around her, acting as her shield before he slips into a sweet slumber in his light’s embrace.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Just you and me

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, fluff, a little bit of everything

Background: You, Carlos and Charles are at a Ferrari event. You came with your longtime best friend Carlos, and Charles brought with him the girl he's currently seeing, even though he's not really interested in anyone else but you. You and Charles have liked each other ever since you met, but you've never gotten into anything serious. You were always seeing other people on the side and that was fine for both of you until you realized that you fell for him.

Y/n's pov

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" Carlos asks kneeling down in front of me. "Hey, are you okay?" He asks again noticing another tear roll down my face.

I honestly don't want to talk to him right now. I don't wanna talk to anybody. I feel pathetic because I'm letting myself feel this way again over a guy. It's humiliating. But it's not Charles' fault. It's no one's fault but mine. I should be in control of my own feelings but here I am yet again letting my mood depend on others. It seems that the more you resist certain things, the more they hurt.

"Look at me." Carlos says lifting up my chin making me look at him but I quickly look away.

"I'd really appreciate if you could leave me be with myself right now."

"I will if you tell me who made you cry?" He takes off his blazer and wraps it around me.

"I made myself cry." I sob putting my palms over my face. I can't wait to look myself in the mirror and see black mascara all over my face. Luckily the amount of alcohol in my system tells me to not give a shit about it.

"Why you two do this to each other, I'll never understand." He sighs.

"He went home with her?" I dare to ask even though I'm not sure if I want to hear the answer.

"She wasn't feeling well so he took her home, but-"

"There you are, fuck I'm looking-"

Charles. He took her home, but he'll be back. Feeling of relief and feeling of anger are fighting inside of me when I see him.

Without saying a word, Carlos stands up and leaves us alone on the terrace. I immediately stand up and head after Carlos not wanting to look at Charles, but before I can leave he tightly grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.

"Let go." I say through my teeth.

"No." He says coldly not breaking the eye contact. "What's wrong? Are you crying because I left with her?"

I laugh at his question. How dares he? "Crying because of you? You're not worthy of that, Charles." I obviously lie yanking my wrist out of his grip.

"See I don't think you're telling the truth." He takes a step closer to me leaving a small gap between us. "I know that just the thought of me being close to her or touching her.." Oh my God my heart literally aches picturing them in my head.

"Stop.." I whisper quietly squinting my eyes desperately wanting to erase it from my mind.

"It makes your blood boil." He says looking down at me. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"What?"

"C'mon," He takes a strand of my hair and puts it behind my ear. "We both know we can't stop thinking about each other. Whose blazer is on you?"

"It's Carlos'." Right as the words leave my mouth, he takes it off of me making it fall to the ground and the cold breeze hits my skin.

"Come with me." He takes my hand again, but I stop him.

"No, Charles, I don't wanna go with you." I lie, but he ignores me. "I'll scream, I swear-"

"Go ahead, scream. The press is just waiting for some interesting shit to happen. I'm sure you'll make the headlines tomorrow morning." He cuts me off and I have nothing to say back at him.

I follow him out of the terrace through the long corridor to the elevator. The elevator takes us up to the top floor of the hotel. We get out and Charles pulls a card out of his pocket unlocking the door of the hotel suite.

As we step inside, Charles takes off his blazer throwing it onto the bed and I go straight to the huge glass wall that has an exit to the balcony. The only light in the room was the one that came from the outside and I didn't mind. I cross my arms looking at the city lights outside not knowing what to do nor how to act. I'm so tired, emotionally tired. I don't have the energy to argue, to scream, I don't even have the energy to fight back or try to prove my point over anything anymore. I am tired of feeling this way.

I feel his arms on my waist as he appears behind me. He places a soft kiss on my shoulder and then on my neck making me close my eyes and lean my head on the opposite side so that now he has a full access to it.

I let out a small whimper as his left hand travels from my waist to the front side of my neck gently gripping it his rings leaving cold traces on my skin.

"Fuck, y/n.." He breathes out. "I want you so bad, you don't even realize." As he says that he presses himself against me and I can feel how hard he already is.

He spins me around and crashes his lips on mine and in that moment I completely give in. I forget what I was mad at him about. I decide not to overthink this, I just want to surrender to this moment and honestly I don't want it to ever end. Even if I wanted to resist this I couldn't. I want him more than anything and I want him to make me his even though in my mind I've been his from the first day we met.

He deepens our kiss as his tongue swipes lightly over mine. His hand finds its way over my thigh to my panties passing with his fingers over the thin damp fabric. He pulls them to the side with his two fingers and slowly starts rubbing my clit in circles as I lean my head in the crook of his neck.

"You're dripping, fuck..Look at me." He whispers and lifts up my chin with his other hand making me look him in the eyes. "You're so wet for me baby. Tell me, tell me what do you want me to do?"

"Charles..." I don't feel confident enough to say profanities back to him, but hearing him talking that way was music to my ears.

"Tell me what you want baby. I want to hear you. Do you want me to finger you?" He asks and I nod digging my nails into his skin.

"Finger me, please." my mouth fall open unable to say anything as his fingers hastily start going in and out of me.

"I really wanted to be gentle with you tonight, but you're making it too difficult for me." I moan at his words and at the loss of touch as he pulls his fingers out of me just to push them back inside. "Open your mouth." I obediently do as he orders and puts his fingers in my mouth. I suck on them paying special attention to his middle finger without taking my eyes off of his.

"Fuck baby..Look what you're doing to me. I'm so hard for you it fucking hurts." He mutters under his breath stroking his cock through his pants that looked as if they were about to snap open under the pressure. We continue to kiss passionately ripping off the clothes from one another.

"Please baby don't make me beg." He throws his head backwards desperate for my touch.

I start kissing his neck and unbuttoning his pants at the same time. He cups my cheeks as I slowly start pulling his boxers down his legs. My knees hit the floor and I don't waste any time as I put him in my mouth. Charles' moans intensifies when I look him up in the eyes.

"Fuuuuck." The eye contact almost sends him over the edge. It drives him completely crazy. "Baby, I'm gonna cum if you keep looking at me like that." But I want him this way, crazy over me, craving my touch as much as I'm craving his. He pulls my hair into a ponytail and pushes me deeper on his cock hitting the back of my throat. I gag around him making him moan in pleasure and he slowly pushes his cock all the way down my throat again enjoying the view.

"Fuck, I can't hold back anymore. I need to be inside of you. Come here." He breathlessly pulls me up by my elbows and presses me against the glass wall. He lifts up my dress and my right leg with one hand and with the other he pulls my panties aside thrusting himself into me.

"Charles we're at the window. Somebody could see us."

"Good. Then everybody will finally know how much you're mine." I feel warmth in my stomach at his words. God, it feels so good to hear them. "Do you want this?" He asks. I nod whimpering, but the answer doesn't satisfy him. "I need to hear you."

"I want it, I want you." I manage to say.

"Are you close?"

"Yeah, I'm so close Charles" I squeal digging my nails into the skin on his back.

"Me too baby, where do you want it?"

"Inside, cum inside me. Fill me up." The words that I whisper into his ear alone are enough to make his eyes roll and release his cum deep inside me. My legs start to shake and he quickly catches me holding me tightly in his embrace and leaving kisses all over my face.

"From now on it's just you and me okay? No one else, just you and me. No more messing around. I only want you y/n. I always have."

"Just you and me."

[pxuvalentinx]

Atta girl ✧ High Noon Yone x fem!reader tw: degradation, creampie, abuse (i think??), spanking, forced breeding, dub con (if theres anything else let me know<3) an: i wrote this a while ago when hn yone got first leaked, so if any new lore dropped - i wouldn't know. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . You swore to yourself that you’d kill every single one of those damn devils — without a single exception. You promised to avenge all the poor souls that got killed by those who made a pact with a devil. Not only that, but you’d give your life to free the west from its curse. It was the least you could do after failing so miserably to save others. So why were you bent over the saloon counter while a man rutted into you? Why were you moaning and whining his name? The name of a man who had made a pact with a devil. Bounty hunter Yone. Such an ironic title when you consider that there’s a high bounty on him as well. He hated devils, too — more than anything. His hatred took him so far that he became one of them. And god, you were thankful for it. Your thoughts were clearly getting manipulated by your tight cunt that was squeezing around his girth so deliciously that it made him growl into your ear. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet — the saloon might’ve been empty, but he wanted everyone to hear that walked by, how he was fucking this once so proud and snobbery woman into his little bitch. How she slowly became his dumb slut. Yone’s hands were on your hips as he thrusted into you from behind, pressing his pelvis against your ass while he leaned forward to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. One hand wandered up your throat, grabbing your chin with it and pulling your head back. His lips were barely two inches away from yours — “Aren’t ya just so pathetic?” He purred. “Just half an hour ago ya were soooo confident about killin’ me, tellin’ me how much ya hated ‘my kind’, how selfish I am, and now… You’re soakin’ and suckin’ in my cock like it’s ya’s life purpose.” The low growl in his voice was making your walls flutter around his dick. You hated to admit how good this felt. His hands were cold, freezing even. They sent shivers down your spine with every touch. He had this frightening and overwhelming aura that seemed to become more distinct with every thrust. His hand let go of your face after he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, proud of his work. From the corner of your eye, you could see his cocky grin. 

squeeze 

“Oh, fuck…!” He cursed. “Makes you this horny? Nasty bitch. Gon’ teach ya a lesson… Make…Ah~ ya regret facin’ me.” Your walls kept pulsating around his cock, massaging all of it like your cunt was made for him. It was driving him crazy, low grunts escaping his throat. 

He spread your ass cheeks with his two broad hands - one gloved. Groans of satisfaction as he looked at the sight. Letting go of one and giving it a hard smack right after, leaving a stinging pain which made you whine out. Music to his ears. Another smack. 

And another.

And another. 

“That ass already looked good in those tight ass jeans ya were wearin’ - but I didn’t expect it to look this good without ‘em” He could feel himself getting harder at the sight, growing even bigger inside of you. “Gon’ make you ride me next time. Want to see that pretty ass bounce on my fat cock. Better show me how much of a cowgirl ya truly are.” 

You turned your face to him, where he was already looking at you with the same cocky smile he had before. The pale skin in combination with his flaming orange eyes made your heart skip a beat. You never thought you’d think of a devil as handsome. Tears were streaming down your face as he continued to abuse your cunt to the best of his abilities. 

Yasuo warned you of him — No, everyone warned you of him, but you didn’t want to listen. You were so confident in being able to defeat him, in being able to get one step closer to peace in the west. And here you were, squirming underneath him, sobbing because his cock just hits all the right spots too damn good, begging him to fuck you harder, to abuse your cunt just a little more because in reality you were a pathetic masochist, who loved that he treated you like a piece of fuck meat. You were begging him to fill you up with his hot seed, to make a mess out of you and your cunt - to mark it as his. 

You didn’t care about the peace of the west anymore. All you could think about was Yone’s cock buried deep inside your pussy while his hands were kneading your ass in such a nice but rough manner. You wanted to cum all over his dick again and again and again. 

“Oh shit, darlin’ - gonna cum. Gon’ fill your tiny little pussy with my seed, ya want that? Fuck~ Tell me how badly ya want it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly ya want to get bred by me.” Yone commanded, the same low husky tone as before. 

Oh, how much this man turned you on, with his stupid low voice and his stupid grunts. “Yo- Ah~ Fuck… Please…fill me up…” 

“Atta girl!” 

His sloppy thrusts eventually ended up in him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with all he has. The twitching feeling of his cock and the noises he made really hit you hard, making you squirt around him, ruining his chaps. Soft whines and pants leaving your lips. Yone threw his head back at the feeling, his hat almost falling off his head.  A split second before he pulled his cock out, looking at his cum oozing out of your cunt. Yours and his fluids were mixing together on the floor. He slurred out some quiet words, while spreading your pussy to really take in the view. "Think ya can take another round?"

[spicyclover]

Betrayed

Summary : I played dumb but I always knew. I kept quiet so I could keep you. You betrayed me, and I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.

Next part : Used

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

He’s sticking a knife in my heart. I can't breathe. It is fucking insane. Eight months of this bullshit. Eight months, and I was fucking blind. I should have known it was all a lie. All the little touches, all the little words of love, all the caresses. Fuck I’m stupid. Eight months in a relationship with this asshole. I played dumb but I always knew.

"I'm sorry," sobs Lando through my bedroom door. "It's fuck up." His hand tries for the hundred time to open the door without success. "Let's talk baby, you're overreacting."

"You fucking lie to me, you make me believe thing and I'm overreacting?" I explode in anger. How dare he put it on my fault? "I'm a dare. You realize it is fuck up!"

"I know." I push him out of my way and head for the kitchen. "Let me explain..."

"Explain?" I turn around and my eyes meet his. At that moment, I feel only pity for this asshole. Pity, because he's only a shameless dog. "Do. Enlighten me, Lando."

Lando’s eyes fall to the ground. He no longer dares to look at me and his tears flow. I can’t believe it. He stabs me in the back, and he's the one crying. The last few months come to mind. Our first meet, his eagerness to go out together. This mania to leave me on read until he deigns to give me his attention again. Him refusing to meet my parents or him refusing that I come to his house. The many parties we spent apart because he didn’t want his friends to know we were together. What a hell-hole shit, that scumbag.

"You were a dare. Yes, and I am sorry. I feel terrible because the more time I spent with you and the more I realize you are amazing."

"Not amazing enough for you to settle for me though." You whisper with bitterness between your teeth. His hands tries to cope my face but I slam them down. "DON'T fucking touch me."

He raises his hand in defeat and continues. "I can't settle, not right now. I can't." More tears fall from his cheeks.

"Why are you crying Norris?" I ask, gritting my teeth. "YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING CRY." This time I yell. I can't take this anymore. I need to walk. I’m starting to walk around the kitchen. I’m thinking about this situation, a why. I know I’m never gonna have the real reason why he hurt me. I turn and turn like a lion in its cage. The pain rises and the anger boils. I want to slap him, to shout the worst, yet I am unable to form coherent sentences in my mouth. "You're sick. You disgust me."

"I'm sorry..."

"STOP! FUCKING SAY I'M SORRY. YOU'RE NOT." As I leave my body, I see the plate on the counter end up in my hand and the next second explode against the wall behind this traitor. "You betrayed me, Lando. And I know damn well that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt."

Lando raises his face that he hid at the impact of the plate next to him and he turns to me bewildered. Yet he seems to be cut off. His reaction doesn’t come. He’s just looking me. I must look crazy. I’m wearing one of his oversize t-shirt, we’re in the middle of the night, and my hair is pissed. My eyes are swollen and I’m breathing loudly. I want him out of my sight, out of my life.

"Get out." I said without emotion in my voice. He doesn't move. His stare is still on me and I can't. I'm going to be sick. "GET OUT!" He jumps and looks around. He finally reacts. He takes a few steps towards the door.

"All this" He pauses, searching his words. "It wasn't meant to hurt you..."

[holybibly]

Heyy Mistress, I hope you're doing well and you're taking good care of yourself because I don't want you to be burnt out.

If Unholy Hours are open again, can you do a fic where San is your step brother and you have the most sexual tension with him etc (I am gross and disgusting for this, I'm so sorry.😖😖😖)

Oh, bunny, your Mistress has a great idea for your request. San looks like real candy, do you want to lick it?

This is something that should never happen. Never ever. You and San were family, relatively speaking, of course, and all that bound you together was your parents' promise to love each other to the end, and your lips were now sliding over his hard, thick cock, smearing a blood red shade of lipstick over his sensitive, velvety flesh.

It was only meant to be a quick kiss when you were both as drunk as you were. You bite down on his plump lower lip, turn away, and whisper softly, "Forget it.". 

The preposition was that it would never happen again, as you aggressively lick each other's lips and tongues, rolling a strawberry-flavored candy between them. San thinks it's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted, and he sincerely regrets not having tried it sooner. Panting, strands of saliva, and sticky lip gloss are pulled between your lips as the kiss ends and you separate. San sticks out his tongue with a triumphant look on his face and shows you the now tiny piece of candy he has stolen from your mouth.

It was supposed to be a disposable item when your legs are spread over his broad shoulders as you sit on the kitchen table and he sucks hard on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He runs his tongue over your pussy, tasting and opening you, making you whimper and writhe in response as he looks up at you from below with his feline dark eyes. 

This should never be part of the plan.

You and San are in his bedroom now, your parents having a lovely evening meal completely unaware of what is going on behind closed doors between the two of you; he's biting the hem of his T-shirt, holding back loud moans and gasps, his jeans and underwear lying in a useless heap on the floor as you kneel between his spread legs. In the darkness of the room, your ruby red lipstick glistens ominously. You look far too seductive, far too sinful for him to deny himself the pleasure of this. Your hands run down San's strong, muscular thighs and you lean down to kiss the flushed, wet head of his cock, your eyes flickering as you see San's gorgeous, sculpted abs tense and his cock twitch with excitement.

San throws his head back, clutching his t-shirt tighter with his teeth as he feels the vibration of your soft laughter on his cock. Your small hand circles the length of it, squeezing and stroking gently a few times before your lips touch the head of his cock again, this time tracing it with your tongue. San rolls his eyes and clutches the sheets with his fingers. He's always been sensitive, and just because you're so good with his body doesn't make it any easier. Sure, he's going to return the favor later on by fucking you in the shower or licking that sweet, plump cunt of yours and making you sob and whimper with pleasure, but right now you're just going to drive him crazy. 

San is trying to stay as calm as possible. Your parents are still at home and could come into his room at any moment, and he hates this. Why the fuck should he be your brother when all he can think about is your moaning and begging, your lovely bouncing tits, and your arse screaming to be beaten and fucked? As you slowly suck him into your hot and deliciously wet mouth, his eyes are fixed on your glistening ruby-red lips. 

Maybe it was the lipstick, or maybe it was just you, but the way you tipped your head and relaxed your jaw, allowing San's thick cock to slide deeper into your throat, drawing its length along the trembling walls of your throat, made his balls tense up, and he crumpled the sheet in his hands with such force that his knuckles turned white. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple jiggling to get your attention, and you unconsciously repeat the movement, swallowing as you let his cock slide deeper and deeper, taking it almost to the base of his dick. 

San whimpers into the fabric of your t-shirt and watches as you slowly pull away, sliding your lips around the thick girth of it, leaving a trail of wet red lipstick on the velvety skin. As you release the head of his cock from your mouth with a slight 'pop', strands of saliva and pre-ejaculate dangle from your bottom lip, and you raise your wide-eyed 'innocent' gaze to him as you slowly run your tongue over your lips. 

"Like that, Sannie? This lipstick shade is called 'Orgasm'." Your hand wraps around his cock again, wet and slippery with saliva, pre-cum, and lipstick. Sun begins to thrust his hips, hoping to achieve that coveted orgasm. "Come on, baby. Fuck my mouth..." San moans in a guttural, the fabric of his t-shirt uncomfortably wet, but it muffles his loud moans, and he is grateful for it when your lips are back on the wet head of his dick and you take it into your mouth. 

He's about to come as you pull your cheeks together and run your tongue tip along his slit, your hand still stroking, squeezing, and rubbing the thick throbbing vein. You are milking his cock so well.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, tapping the swollen, red head of cock against the flat surface. With a soft humming sound, you pull yourself away from him and quickly run your hand over San's cock, flashing an enraptured smile at him. A beautiful shade of red lipstick is smeared all over your face. 

"I would have done it a long time ago if I had known this would turn you on so much, baby." You say this before taking the whole cock back into your mouth. Sliding it down gently and easily, the thick, wiry girth slides right down in your throat. You hold it there for longer than you should be able to, your throat muscles quivering as San begins to tremble, gasping as his quadriceps clench, and he squeezes the sheets with his fingers once more until you can hear them crack.

You pull away from the thick cock again, just enough to let out a soft moan before you move down again, not so deep this time, take San's cock in your mouth. Your hand slides over the part not in your mouth; the sound of your heavy breathing, your smoothly sliding hand over wet flesh, and San's soft, muffled whimper fill the room.

San comes within seconds, whimpering and jerking his hips, his thick cum filling your mouth, and you swallow every drop greedily, only pulling away when San's teeth loosen the fabric of his t-shirt and he leans back onto the soft mattress of the bed. 

Red stains of lipstick are smeared across your cheeks and down your chin, and your neck is wet with your own saliva and San's cum. You continue to jerk him off slowly, lazily squeezing every last drop of cum out of him and making his orgasm last longer.

"Damn, that felt so good." San says this and stands up sharply to wrap his palm around your wet neck, pulling you against him. He finally feels the ruby-red color of your lipstick on his lips with his own tongue, savoring the musky, thick taste of his own cum as he kisses you greedily and passionately.

Your teeth clash, lipstick smearing across your skin, and you stand up, still not breaking the kiss, only to push San back onto the bed and crawl on top of him. His grip on your neck tightens, his teeth biting painfully into your lower lip, and you pull away to let yourself breathe. 

"Now I can finally fuck you, can't I?" San asks, and you swallow as you hear the low, sultry tone in his voice.

"You're going to have to work hard to keep me quiet, babe."

San grins and gives you a sweet peck on the lips.

"Oh, baby, believe me, I know so many ways to shut you up."

[head-shoulders-knees-pain]

Day 19: Angel Devil x Gn!Reader - Phone Sex

fandom: Chainsaw Man

word count: 500+

cw: 18+, dom reader, sub character, phone sex, comfort minimal hurt(?), mutual masturbation, accidental exhibitionism

tag: @ficsforgaza

When I first joined Public Safety, if you had told me that I would be dating a devil, I probably would’ve laughed in your face and asked to have whatever you were having cause that’s crazy.

After years on the job and getting put into Tokyo Special Division 4, I guess I’m crazy because it happened. I’m also crazy lucky because I got the best devil there is, Angel.

I open the door to my apartment and sigh, honestly just thinking of them puts a smile on my face.

It was a struggle to get here, they still don’t want to touch but they’ve lowered their walls enough to call them mine.

It’s a shame we were put on different missions today, hopefully I can convince Makima to let me do like Power and Denji do with Aki and let him stay at my place…hehe maybe a little too soon to be moving in together but at least he’d get out more that way.

The buzz from my phone pulls me away from my thoughts, as well as a groan when I see Makima’s name. Great, hopefully nothing's wrong and she just needed to check something.

I answer the call with a polite tone, “Ms. Makima, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is everything alright ma’am?”

“Actually, a situation has come up and I need your assistance.” Fuck, what else should I have expected?

I move back to the front door, going to put on my shoes before I’m caught off, “Stay where you are. I just need you to stay on the line.”

That doesn’t make anything more clear for me, “Ma’am? What does that-”

“The Angel Devil was hit with another devil’s powers today during their mission and is in quarantine.” What!?

“Ma’am!” “No. Nobody can come into contact with the devil until they calm down.” “But-” “The power they were hit with is non-lethal to them but is causing them distress. We believe you can help by talking to them through it.”

I take a deep breath to calm myself, “So Angel isn’t hurt? Just…what kind of devil were they chasing?”

“They were hunting a devil known as the Lust Devil, and we believe their attack had an almost aphrodisiac effect on the Angel Devil but we cannot be confident that it won’t cause them to harm others so we are monitoring the situation as it passes through them.”

“So…you want me to calm them down? How can I do that through the phone?”

“I am aware the two of you are closer than most should be with devils, but if you can get a handle on the situation then I will overlook this oversight-” well now I can’t refuse, not that I was anyways- “From what we’ve observed, normally the effect wares off once the individual reaches sexual climax, however, it appears that the Angel Devil is unable to.”

Hand up to my ear, room silent, and I’m not completely sure I still heard her right.

After a moment of silence, she pipes back up on the phone. “Are you still there?”

“Uh- yeah no sorry I’m still here just…didn’t expect that-like at all.” I walk over to the couch and flop down on it.

“Ah, well if you’re a virgin then I can simply-“

I jolt up in my seat, cutting her off, “Whether or not I’m a virgin means nothing, I’m helping him. You just caught me off guard Makima.” “So you believe you can-“ “yes please stop talking and just- just let me talk to him.”

The line goes silent and I slump back into the couch again. I listen to her heels clack on the floor, low muttering in the background, before I hear a hard click that cuts to panting.

“Angel?” I softly call out.

A gasp is heard over the line before some quiet cries are made.

“Oh my little dove, what’s wrong?”

I hear more sniffles, until “It hurts, they say I have to fix it but I c-can’t.”

His sobs break my heart, “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened. I’d be there if I could-“

“No!” He screams before groaning, “Don’t wanna hurt you..”

“I know, that’s why I’m gonna help you from here, okay?”

I hear movement from his end but I can’t tell from what, “Baby if you’re nodding I can’t see it, you’re gonna have to talk to me too.”

“Okay…I don’t want to do it alone though. Can you make it better?”

He sounds like he’s almost whining, how could I refuse such a request?

I swallow before responding, “Sure, I’ll do it too. Pretend you’re doing it to me if that helps, or that it’s my hands doing it to you, okay?”

“Hmh, what first?”

“Well normally I’d warm up to it but you need to finish if we want to stop the pain, so can you strip for me?”

He murmurs out something a mix of yeah and okay before I hear more movement on his end, I quickly slip off my pants and underwear too.

“Nhh-now what?”

“Breathe for me dove, tell me what I’m working with.”

I hear him breathing heavy as he answers, “I’m hard, so hard it hurts. Reddish and wet at the tip but that’s it.”

“You’re doing so good already, following my directions. Now spit into your hand.”

After I hear it on his end, I repeat the action in my side. “Now, bring your hand to the top of your dick and slowly cover your length with spit and precum.”

I lean my head against the couch as my hand touches myself, other hand holding the phone up to my ear.

As I breathe into the phone, I hear his breath hitching before slightly turning into whimpers.

“It’s okay baby, how’s it feeling?”

“Hot, but- aah -good.”

Fuck. “Fuck, that’s it. Wrap your hand fully and pump up and down. You’re doing so good, my love.”

His whimpers turn into moans and I start to feel the weight come off my shoulders more so I stroke myself faster.

“Good boy, keep going. Up and down, you can switch hands if you’re getting tired.”

His moans get louder before turning into whines, “I-it’s not enough.”

“You can do it, just keep stroking. Don’t stop.”

I stroke faster and moan louder, “Shit- Angel, listen to my voice, can you hear how good you’re making me feel? You’re doing that.”

The speaker echoes his cries, “Please~ I wanna cum, how can I cum?”

“Reach your other hand down and twist the two while pumping. Keep picking up speed until I say you can cum.”

I can hear the difference when he does, unbashful beautiful moans.

I start to pant as I feel myself growing close, luckily he’s doesn’t sound too far away either.

His cries are a mix of moans, begging for more, calling out my name, or pleas to cum.

“Angel, cum.” I demand.

His scream of my name pushes me over as I spill into my hand.

I lay back on the couch, catching my breath as I listen to him breathing too.

“Angel? Do you feel any better?”

A hard click cuts in, “The Angel devil passed out, but seems to have recovered from the attack. Thank you for your efforts, I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.” Makima then cuts the line.

[basu-shokikita]

Happy Birthday Dethday, Toki!

I've been busy this week so I tried to whip out something real quick for the best boy's birthday! 🎂🌈

Happy Birthday Toki, you make my world a better place 🩷

Birthdays weren’t exactly celebrated in the Wartooth household, so Toki didn’t know they were supposed to be important. He never received a cake for it, or even a congratulations from his parents. He didn’t have friends, either, so it’s not like someone else could’ve celebrated for him.

Birthdays were just another regular day as far as he was concerned, and that’s exactly why he had no idea when his was. So, when Charles asked him, a few days after joining Dethklok, he panicked and went with the first date he could come up with. September 1st.

Later on, he realized that he had seen that date on a movie displayed on the big TV screens displayed by an old store, right across the alley Toki used to sleep in. The children were happily going back to school to reunite with their friends. It was September 1st.

He couldn’t imagine it being that important, so he quickly forgot he ever gave that information. Nor did he think it would be relevant in the future.

…

“Toki! Hey, Toki!” Someone shook him violently. “Toki, wake up!”

“Mmh?” Toki turned around in a daze. “Pickle?”

“We’re late, Toki!” Pickles said, seemingly stressed. “Get up already!”

“L-Late?” Toki sat up and grabbed his pants. “Lates for whats?”

“The…The show!” Pickles urged him with his hands. 

Toki glanced at the clock in his room. “But it’s-”

“Just huhrry up!” The drummer dashed to the hall and out of Toki’s sight. 

“Wait, Pickle!” Toki put on the nearest t-shirt he found and followed him.

The apartment seemed near empty, which was weird because it wasn’t even 10 am. Because of their growing fame, they had moved to a new place in LA. It was more spacious than the Florida apartment and now everyone had their own rooms, but still you could hear what everyone was up to. Which made this silence even more ominous.

“Pickle?!” Toki called him, to no avail. Suddenly, he heard a scream coming from the living room. Freaked out, he ran towards the voice, hoping nothing bad had happened to Pickles.

When he walked into the living room, the words ‘Your time is up’ were written in thick, black letters on the wall. Whoever had written that, was still in the house because the ink seemed fresh. Horrified, Toki looked down to see Pickles’ body lying next to the message.

“Pickle!” He screamed and bent down to hold his bandmate. He seemed unconscious, was he even breathing? “Oh, no, Pickle…” Toki sobbed quietly. 

He didn’t have time to grieve, because a couple of footsteps behind him chilled his blood. The subsequent creaking on the floor confirmed it, there was someone else in the room. And he was fastly approaching him. Toki felt his breath hitch and his heart about to burst out of his chest.

Slowly, he turned around but before seeing the face of the assailant he was splashed with a thick liquid. He screamed and closed his eyes as he awaited for the substance to melt his skin or something equally deadly. When a few seconds went by and he felt no pain, he opened his eyes. 

“Huh?” He cautiously touched his face in fear and stared at his hands stained with red gooeyness. “Whats the-” 

“Happy Birthday!” Several voices went off at once, prompting him to look up. 

Murderface was right beside him, holding the empty bucket in his hands with a smile. Nathan, Skwisgaar by the table a handful of feet away, clapping in delight. Even Pickles, held between his arms, was cheering too. 

Toki felt close to fainting.  “What ams…what ams goings on?”

“Its yous borfdays, dildos.” Skwisgaar said, with a smile. “Remembers?”

Like a hazy dream, Toki remembered giving the information to Charles. Right, so today was September 1st. Still, it didn’t explain this demented display. He looked at his completely ruined shirt, entirely lost. 

“It’sch pig blood.” Murderface helpfully informed, with a grin. “Pretty brutal, right?” 

Toki was bewildered. Blood? He splashed him with fucking blood?

“Dude, look at his face.” Nathan commented, told Skwisgaar. “He totally didn’t see it coming.”

“Tolds you, he wouldn’ts eggspekts dis.” Skwisgaar snickered back.

“Oh, yeah, Pickles, the pretending-to-be-dead bit was a really good touch.” Nathan said.

“Nuh, that was forreal.” Pickles pointed at the bottle by his feet. “I tripped. Behd.” 

“Oh.” 

Groaning, Pickles got up, leaving the speechless Toki crouched on the floor. “Come ahn, Toki.” He offered him his hand. 

Toki grabbed it and Pickles pulled him on his feet. It happened kinda fast, though, so it left Toki feeling kind of dizzy.

“Check out the cake we made.” Pickles said.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking brutal.” Nathan agreed and Toki followed his stare.

There was a big black and white cake on the table, with a deformed thing on top that seemed to be his old Flying V. Red stripes decorated the sides and Toki assumed they were supposed to be blood. 

“I deskigneds its.” Skwisgaar said with his chest puffed up. “You ams welkomes.”

“Tis ams for mes?” Toki pointed at himself. 

“Well, ye!” Pickles patted him in the back, joyful. “Its yer birthdei, dood!”

“We schtill get to eat schome, though.” Murderface added, appearing on his other side.

“Wowee…” Toki was overwhelmed. “I…Is never…”

“Had such a brutal birthday celebration?” Nathan completed his sentence.

More like, never had anyone celebrating his birthday. He nodded with a smile. “Ja.”

“Obviouslies.” Skwisgaar said, putting a black cone with sloppily drawn skulls on Toki’s head. “Happies birthdays, eh, Toki?” He patted him on the shoulders. 

Toki looked down, unable to process all the attention given to him on a day that, until moments ago, was just like any other for him. He really didn’t want to cry, because that wasn’t brutal, and he didn’t want them to see his flushed cheeks either, because that was embarrassing. “Thanks you…” He muttered, unable to meet their eyes.

There was a short-lived silence, because the others weren’t any more able to deal with emotional stuff either, until Pickles shouted. “Alright, get the alcohooool!”

While the rest dashed to the kitchen to get drinks, Toki wiped his eyes surreptitiously. Honestly, it’s not like they’d notice if he cried with all the blood he had on his face. He looked at his cake again and noticed the date written under the guitar.

Guess his birthday really was on September 1st.